And Thus the Dwarves Came To Falmart
by Jeggetts4.0
Summary: A Gate opens to a lands of evil, the invaders pushed back by a centuries old Necromancer. When word gets back about the Gate, seven Dwarves jump at the chance to explore a new land. One Shot.


The Imperial soldiers screams throughout the dead but still growing trees, the undead husks tearing the man in half, blood erupting from the action and the mans organs plopping to the ground, the mans screams gurgling out with his life.

The eyes growing on the evil grass stared and blinked at the sight, not even blinking as blood splattered on them, or as they were crushed beneath the many feet of undead, staring blankly with glowing blue eyes, at the now dead soldier. The malice at all life replaced with nothing behind them, empty as a vacant house.

With a flick of a wrist among the crowd, both halves of the recently killed soldier came back, the legs moving on their own, and the upper torso dragging itself with it's arms, heedless of its lack of legs.

The Necromancer looked at the strange gate that had appeared within the depths of this swamp, from which all the invaders had come from. All with unusual races not created by Armok, nor any force or other Deity the mortals of this world ascribed to. Not that it mattered to him. He had the secrets of life and death, he would never confirm any Deity if he had his way, and he had his way for over 300 years.

He had to admit though, this long life had gotten boring. Humans, Goblins, Elves, Dwarves, the odd animal person, all fighting for the same causes, or ones they had forgotten they already fought for some time ago. The ancient forces of this world were fading, The Titans were nearly extinct, megabeats no longer rampaged, even deep deep below, the Forgotten Beasts blood was running enough to fill oceans.

He knew he could fend off the next hunting party that came for him, but… where was the fun in that? Something new had come this way, and he felt it was time to do something new. So, with his undead legion, amassing on this position, he got to work.

He sent some scouts through, seeing through their eyes a new world, one not made from Armok. The soldiers were fighting some undead that had chased after them through the gate, not under his control, but providing a useful distraction nonetheless. The dragons were a problem, though with his own, he felt confident.

He sent a large number the gate, the undead archers aiming into the group, and his undead dragons, engaging the living ones, the undead ones firing at the live. Though nowhere near the level of Dragonfire of his native worlds dragons, it still did the job. They were all caught by surprise, likely thinking they were reinforcements. It didn't take long for the ambush to clear the skies of enemy fliers.

The soldiers on the ground fared no better. For every undead they thoroughly pulped, they lost five men to the advancing horse. Some who used swords,hacked the undead to, pieces but feet, fingers, even heads and hair, all continued to advance and attack any living being present. Heads bit and hair crawled into mens throats suffocating them, or distracting them so the other undead could quickly dispose of them. Soon, with no one but a scant few survivors that fled in the confusion, there wasn't a single living soul near the gate.

With the immediate area cleared, he himself stepped though the gate, lingering near the rear of the horde. The soldiers had been pushed back, and there was plenty of corpses for him to replenish his losses already. With a simple gesture, all the recent and fresh dead rose again, many standing, some forced to crawl, as did any such extremities such as fingers, toes and even noses and ears. All obeyed him, and all would never betray him.

Well then. Time to see what this world had to offer. He set off in a direction, his horde following, and was ready to see the new world.

...

* * *

It was not only the necromancer that had found the gate. Dwarves from the Fortress of Paintedconjured, the civilization of The Sling of Visionaries, coming to slay the necromancer in The Growling Swamp, had found his tower empty and devoid of any undead defenders. After days of advancing through putrid water and enduring just as putrid weather as blood rained from the sky, one could imagine their frustration. An unfortunate grimeling may or may not have been the victim of such frustration.

They had scoured the surrounding evil landscape and discovered the gore splattered battleground, the red strained structure leading somewhere, the way shrouded in darkness.

They had followed the passageway, long and dark though it was, it was better than being in the swamp with fog that could turn Dwarves into mindless undead husks at any moment. That and they still wanted to see if their bounty was around here. Their booze stocks wouldn't replenish themselves after all.

Alas for the fortune seeking Dwarves, there was no undead leader. In fact, there was nothing on the other side except a thankfully normal countryside if one discounted more signs of battle. Blood everywhere, but no bodies. That told them their quarry had passed through here, but the tracks suggested he was nowhere close by.

They decided to return home. Their quarry was long gone, and their booze flasks would not hold out in their search. They did however tell of the strange new landscape, as they returned to Paitedconjured. Tales of the Necromancer trail spread, as did word of the gate. A new frontier for Dwarven kind. Many were hesitant, already leading comfortable lives in the MountainHome. No sane person would give that up for complete uncertainty, not these days.

These however are Dwarves we are talking about. As it happened, one day, seven of them decided they wanted to start their own fortress. On the other side of the gate. A chance for adventure called to them and they wanted to answer it.

The leader, Aban Keskaltosid, was an adventurous sort. She was taller than usual for a dwarf, long chestnut hair tied into twin braids, green eyes sparkled with the prospect of a new land, even getting there sounded like fun, The Growling Swamps tales of horror was a siren call to her, and the treasure was tempting, so she organized an expedition. She was already trained in combat and getting through the swamp would need a strong capable leader.

The miners, brothers, Zasit and Ubbul Ozordatan, both bald, but where Zesit was clean shaven and had blue eyes, Ubbul had brown eyes and a long beard. Both had blonde hair and both extremly muscular due to years of mining. They longed for unfamiliar caves to explore, having been tied to the same location for most of their lives. They jumped at the chance to finally fulfill their dream.

Ustuth Logembungek, a quiet dwarf with clean shaven sideburns, a medium length beard and long mustache, all neatly combed, a carpenter and woodcutter by trade, didn't take much convincing. There was already an abundance of carpenters here and he longed to be outside felling trees instead of just working on logs to turn them into trinkets all day.

Monom Endokthalal, with her somewhat greasy long hair and slightly suken cobalt eyes, and extraordinary broad nose, she perhaps wasn't the best looking even by Dwarfe standards, but she knew her crops, underground and above, like no other, and had a knack for always having great harvests. That and she was a brewer as well, an indispensable skill for any fortress.

Meng Asemelzar was the youngest, only fifteen years old, an adult by Dwarven standards, even with her slightly rebellious extremely long straight hair, but she was an expert mason. Heliotrope eyes studying how to shape stone to her whims, chairs, doors, goblets, all could be made in mere minutes with her skill. She was itching to finally be able to decorate a fortress to her liking for once as well.

The final Dwarf Kikrost Kegwthvutok, only older than Meng by five years, was tall but had ill defined muscles, and took better hair of his hair if his clean shaven sideburns, hair tied in a pony tail and very long neaten combed mustache was any indication. He was the animal handler of the group, well versed in animal husbandry, training, breeding, and butchering and cleaning when the animals had served purpose in life. Copper eyes dreaming of an adventure were easily filled with images of a new world, and he rushed forward to get a spot.

The seven Dwarves had gathered plenty of supplies for the trip. Food, alcohol, seeds, cloth, a rooster, 3 cats, 2 dogs, enough for any competent set of Dwarves to not die within one season.

With their destination set, they set off into the forbidding wilderness.

...

* * *

They talked among st themselves, about what they would find on the other side. Perhaps a world that was free of the those damn pointy eared bastards, always going on about the trees and acting appalled when even spotting wooden teeth inside an otherwise toothless dwarf. Ustuth recalling a story about he had felled a tree that had happened to frighten the elves horses sending them into the river. He had most assuredly not been warned by the guards of their arrival beforehand.

Another speculated perhaps there were better elves. Ones that enjoyed drinking as much as Dwarves and would happily chop down any tree. He maybe had one too many Plump Helmet brews to drink.

It took many days but they had arrived. Aban had already had to fight off a few attacks the moment the Growling Swamp had tried to sink their wagon into the mud. Grimelings, Harpys, even the odd reanimated animals, fell before her mighty warhammer, laughing all the while as she made sure to pulp every single body part lest they return. Now here they stood, staring into the maw of the blood stained gate before them. With one final drink of booze, they entered the gate, Aban leading the way, the other encouraged by her bravery.

There was no longer the putrid stench of the swamp, not the groaning of the land, not the living shadow cast by glumprogs, just darkness and the sounds of their wagon wheels and footsteps. Even their animals dared not make a noise. At long last, a light appeared at the end of the tunnel, giving the Dwarves plenty of time to dwell on the approaching light.

When they finally emerged, it was to a bright sunny day, and green hills and fields surrounding them, as if the stinking evil of the swamp was but a faint nightmare. Aban looked around vigorously, smiling, the brothers already eyeing the mountains themselves, Ustuth smelt the wind, grateful for a chance to be outdoors again. Monmon was picking some new plants, some she had never seen before, and hoped to brew, Meng was eager to turn their new carved out hole into a home, and Kikrost swore he heard some strange new animal noises on the wind as it blew over them.

Alas, no mountains nearby for walking distance with their current supplies, but the signs of battle were once again present. Blood, pulped bodyparts, and many many footprints heading off into the distance directly from the gate.

Well, if that wasn't incentive enough to get started on digging, they might as well call themselves peace loving knife ears right this moment! Aban had scouted around, and found a suitable hill for their needs. Far enough from the gate so as to be out of the way, but also close enough when they finally have at the least the beginnings of a proper fortress up, they could meet their liaisons waiting on the other side.

So, with a bit more walking, they finally settled on a hill. Not nearly as large as a mountain or large enough to be a MountainHome all on its own. Dwarves however, were known for digging deep enough for that not to be an issue. Sometimes to their doom, but tat has not stopped them before and certainly not now

With the brothers ready, their picks ready to carve out a new chapter in Dawrven legends, Ustuth already having spotted the first trees he would fell in years, they only needed to order to do so. Aban standing atop the wagon with her warhammer held high shouted with glee, her voice echoing off the hillside, hair blowing in the wind.

"Strike the earth!"

...

* * *

**So yeah, just a small snippet idea I had that I wanted to get out of my system. Dang you Kruggsmash and your damn addictive DF stories! Just a one shot where instead of the usual war between the two worlds, there isn't any bad blood for either. DF needs more love on this site. **


End file.
